My mom once told me that I seem to have a need for something big to be going on all the time. That I am never content to let things just be, that I always seem to need a plan, or a project, or an idea for some major change in the works.
And she was right. I always have, I always do.
Now, since moving to San Francisco, my "big plans" have been a little on the vague side. I realized that making plans for the Entirety Of My Whole Life did not in any way guarantee happiness or fulfillment or permanence. So I cut back. I landed in SF with the slightly less planful attitude of "I'll figure something out eventually. Hey, wanna go to the piano bar?"
I mean, I do make plans, but have been a bit gun-shy to commit to anything too big. (Suppose death and divorce will do that to a girl, huh?) Instead, I've just kind of tried lots of things and wended my way down a path with few expectations. Something doesn't work? That's okay, I'll just move on to the next thing. No big deal.
And this would probably explain how it is that in the 4.5 years I've lived here, I have done things like worked for four different companies, rented four different apartments, gotten into three serious relationships, applied to and been rejected from a competitive grad program in a completely different field from my profession. And so on.
Which is some ways has been pretty great. I mean, it's gotten me to where I am now.
I'm starting to think that where I am now needs to change again. That I’m kinda ready for the next phase.
I've been in the same job for year, and in the same apartment for almost two. On one hand, I'm actually kind of proud of these facts -- I haven't lived anywhere in my life for longer than two years except my parents' house. But I can tell I'm getting kind of comfortable in an uncomfortable way. I can see how easy it would be to stay exactly where I am, doing what I'm doing, for years. It's fun. It’s even kind of easy. I LIKE my apartment, and I LIKE my job. I LIKE my life.
But not enough that I want to wake up and have it suddenly be five years later. You know?
I feel like I came to San Francisco to get my bearings. To figure out how to stand on my own two feet while recovering from one life-altering event after another. The last few years have been great, but have also been about keeping my head above water. (Am I forgetting any clichés here?) And I don’t think there’s been anything wrong with that.
It’s just that I feel like I am above water now. And I don’t want to just keep treading. I want to swim, go, move forward.
I am in my 30s, and accepting the realization that every day, every week, every month I spend burying my head in the corporate sand is another day, week, month I’ve opted for safety instead of fulfillment. I think it’s high time I admit what I really want and figure out a way to go after it.
Yep, it’s time for change.